So This Is Growing Up
by MaybeWolf
Summary: Growing up is hard, it's even harder when you're Robbie Shapiro and your best friend is a girl that may or may not be cootie infested. An origin story for Robbie, Tori and the rest of the Hollywood Arts gang. Pairings will vary and may change. Expect to see very, very eventual Rori and Bade though. Probably. Also, this is an entry in Jonathan's Boundverse Rori Contest, so enjoy!
1. Story Of A Lonely Guy

**Well, here's my sort of entry for the Boundverse Rori Contest. I say sort of because it's nowhere near finished, like at all. Also, I needed to get it out quick so it hasn't been beta'd. Ignore the typos and stuff. They'll hopefully be gone next chapter :) **

**Anyways, this is going to be my rewrite of Robbie's life pretty much. It's going to be a little AU, but still fairly faithful to the show. A**** fair amount of the story will be set pre Hollywood Arts, so it will double as an origin story for how the gang came tother, too.** All of the major events of the series will take place (eventually) though. I'm not totally set on the endgame pairings, but yeah, it's safe to say we'll be seeing RobbiexEveryone in some form or another. Enough gibbering, here's the fic.

* * *

"_The road outside my house is paved with good intentions_

_Hired a construction crew, because it's hell on the engine"_

_- Hum Hallelujah by Fall Out Boy_

* * *

Robbie Shapiro has always been that sad, and sort of lonely kid. As long as he can remember, he's been an island unto himself. He guesses that's why his test scores are so high. If there's a space inside of your head meant for friendship, then Robbie's is surely filled with unnecessary words like recalcitrant. That's a person with an uncooperative attitude towards authority, by the way. Robbie had stumbled across it during his brief attempt at being rebellious in the spring of 2005. That's not really relevant though, just a precursor to an evening where for the first time, Robbie doesn't really feel so sad and lonely.

It's summer now, and the night's air is just beginning to burn a little. As usual, eleven year old Robbie Shapiro is holed up in his room. His entire body rattles in alarm when his mom tramples her way across his room and blots out the television. He's kind of stunned that she's up here. He barely sees her unless there's a function for him to attend. Words that Robbie's not really listening to spill from her lips, and he laments the possibility of having visit with his parent's friends again. By the time Robbie pulls himself back out of his thoughts, his Mom is already telling him how much trust is being put in him tonight. Furrowing his brows, Robbie's able to piece together a few scraps of information, from the rest of what his mom says. Apparently he's going to be babysitting the daughter of a new couple his parents are friends with. With that realization, Robbie wonders why he's the only one in the room that thinks leaving an eleven year old in charge of an entire household for a night is a horrible idea. Naturally though, Robbie's mom mistakes his puzzled silence for acceptance and rushes through the door again a few scant moments later.

Robbie's lies on his bed and tries to watch the rest of Drake & Josh when a shadow from the doorway falls over him. Feeling his throat tighten, Robbie slowly removes his gaze from the television. Surely enough the hairs on the back of Robbie's neck are standing on end because beneath the doorframe is a girl that's somewhere close to his age. Strands of her chestnut hair swim around her high cheekbones, while the rest remains in messy curls on her shoulders. Robbie wonders what she could possibly be doing almost standing in his room. Sure she's wearing glasses just like his, but he doubts that she's short on friends. Maybe their parents are all just very strict or something, he theorizes. As Robbie continues to stare, mostly in befuddlement as to why he's the one she's being hosted by, the girl shifts uncertainly.

"Uh hi…Robbie. You're Robbie, right? My mom said your name was Robbie, but she's not so good with names. I hope you're not offended by me calling you Robbie if that's wrong…anyway I'm Vic-Tori, call me Tori. My friends call me Tori. Well, Mom and Dad do, at least…" The girl squawks, blundering her way into a spiel comprised of just barely coherent words. Eyebrows perking, Robbie watches the girl, Tori actually, as she wrings her hands fretfully. There's a teetering smile on her lips, and it occurs to Robbie that maybe Tori's a little more like him then just the glasses.

Eyeing her feeble smile, Robbie hesitantly peels himself away from his bed and slowly lopes over to where Tori is standing. Standing face to fa – er, neck actually, Robbie's a little dismayed to realize that Tori still sort of towers over him when he stands. Not really sure of what else to do, Robbie throws his hand between himself and his guest in greeting. Robbie's seen his father do it enough times that he's at least 47% sure that it's the right thing to do. That percentage flies into the high seventy's when the edges of Tori's lips twitch upwards, and she grabs his hand enthusiastically. It's sort of a nice feeling, actually.

"Robbie, I'm Robbie." Robbie says, smiling a little bit as he absently cradles his arm. It feels as though some of the tendons or muscles In his upper arm may have frayed under the strain of Tori's enthusiastic greeting. Her eyes flicker down, and the smile on his face mutates into something that's more sheepish then anything. Robbie's not that great with reading signs, or picking up on body language, but _this_ he notices. An inexplicable feeling of remorse comes over Robbie, and words start dripping through his lips.

"Uh, so I'm watching Drake and Josh if you-"

No sooner have the words left Robbie's lips and a flash of chestnut hair is tearing past him. Blinking with a start, Robbie spirals around in the direction Tori's just flown. His eyes end up landing a spot that he'd only just been occupying. There perched on his bed, in his favourite spot, watching his favourite show is a girl that Robbie's only just met. Twisting his lips in contemplation, Robbie briefly considers allowing Tori to have his place. But then something odd happens, Tori looks over and realizes she's taken over Robbie's spot. Instead of laughing with glee like a normal person, the girl actually _moves over_. Behind his glasses, Robbie's eyes widen into saucers, the shock of it all bringing a sudden stop to the thoughts usually rampaging through his brain. After a short delay, Robbie swallows his incredulity at somebody being _nice_ to him and not very gracefully slides onto his bed beside Tori.

It's less awkward than he'd been expecting.

Tori practically swoons every time Drake comes onto the screen. Robbie doesn't know why, but something prickles in his throat with each passing occurrence of this. Maybe he's actually allergic to girls, he theorises. During the advertisements, Tori enthusiastically tells him she's never missed an episode, and forgetting that she might be toxic to his health, Robbie's kind of impressed. Even he's missed one or two episodes since the show began to air in January since this parents insist on dragging him to their work functions and occasional dinner dates. Robbie mentions this to Tori, who casually alludes to her parents not taking her on their anywhere really. Robbie's sure she must possess some kind of girl stealth. How else could she evade the horrible family outings he endures? He wonders if maybe she'd like play ninja sometime. Already Robbie's decided that he'd much rather be a ninja with Tori than a prop in a ballroom for his parents.

Drake and Josh ends, and shockingly enough, Tori doesn't immediately flitter downstairs. She actually turns to Robbie and wonders out loud about what they're going to do for the rest of the night. Robbie's still grinning stupidly at the prospect of somebody actually wanting to spend time with him when his mother bursts through the door again at 7:03pm. She then makes some sounds about a pizza arriving in an hour, before scampering off again to do whatever it is that parents do on a Friday night.

Freakishly enough, the doorbell rings and it's three minutes past 8 O'clock. Robbie scrambles down the stairs and pays the delivery boy – er, man. He's a rather unsightly look gentleman, Robbie thinks. All crooked teeth and three day old stubble. He's punctual enough and hands Robbie the pizza without much of a fuss though, so Robbie guesses the guy isn't _so_ bad. Clutching their pizza tightly, Robbie turns back to Tori. She's leaning heavily against the kitchen counter, already armed with not one but _two_ plates. Robbie maybe swoons a little because of that. He guesses this is what have a friend must be like. It feels pretty good.

"You know, I hope our parents stay friends." Tori says a while later, looking thoughtful as she pulls her third slice of pizza onto her plate. Well, she's trying to look thoughtful at least. There's a long string of cheese hanging from her more and it's kind of maybe destroying the effect a little bit.

"How come?" Robbie blurts out, still struggling with his urge to laugh at the cheese on Tori's face. Tori squeaks, and then she's furrowing her brow in his direction like the answer should have been obvious. Robbie just stares at her and suddenly feels very stupid about the whole thing.

"So I can come here." Tori says, rolling her eyes as a grin splashes across her lips. Robbie feels his throat tighten up, but returns the gesture anyway. Tori's still smiling at him like he's not weird, and _that's_ weird. Robbie guesses she just really likes the décor or something.

"Oh. Well, you have cheese on your face." Robbie notes absentmindedly, still drifting from thought to thought. Across the table, Tori cocks her head just far enough that strands of her brown hair lightly splay across her face. Things stay still for a moment, and then Tori's left eye twitches. Robbie's thoughts swing to a sudden halt with that. He can make out a dark bolt in Tori's eyes, the tell tale sign of a panic attack. Robbie's experienced enough of them first hand to see them coming a mile away.

"Not again!" Tori wails right on cue, swiping frantically at her mouth. She screws her eyes shut, and those high cheekbones stain red with embarrassment. Robbie's jaw swings open, but the reassuring words he wants to say get strangled in his throat. Tori squawks and flails around for a little while longer, but then she's collapsing back into her seat with a sort of exhausted chuckle. Robbie watches as the blush faces from Tori's face with a final casual shrug, and then it's like nothing has even happened. Robbie feels oddly reassured. Maybe Tori and him can struggle through the most basic of social situations together while the rest of the world breezes past them. Robbie's contemplated worse fates.

In that moment, Robbie decides that he too would like it very much if Tori's parents would continue to be friends with his parents.

* * *

A couple of weeks fly past and Robbie thinks it's safe to say that his friends are indeed good friends with Tori's parents. They're such good friends in fact, that Robbie sometimes wonders if they've forgotten that they're also parents. The worst part though, is that he doesn't even miss them. Robbie guesses it shows just how strained their relationship was that a strange brown haired girl can render his parents basically obsolete in less than a month. Robbie mentions his to Tori one night, and instead of looking grossed out like she should, all she does is smile. They also talk about Tori's parents, but she seems less concerned by her them and more content with Robbie's company. The whole thing is a little baffling sure, but Robbie's doesn't even think that he minds exchanging his mom and dad for Tori anyway.

Well Tori and his minder.

A _minder_, not a babysitter his mom had emphasized. Robbie wonders if she's developed a fear of the term babysitter in the wake of him and Tori redecorating the living room. It had happened shortly after Robbie and Tori had decided drinking an entire bottle of Mountain Dew in one sitting was a good idea. Robbie's mom had come home to cheese on the ceiling, and the morning after she'd hired his minder. Despite the intimidating title, Robbie doesn't think his minder is so bad. His name is Alfonz, and he speaks with an accent that's almost as thick as his moustache. Apart from cooking dinner and occasionally commandeering the television to shout at football matches, Alfonz generally keeps to himself if something isn't getting broken. It's an easy truce, and Robbie can't help but think his parents are even _less_ relevant now. He only lets that thought take hold briefly before feeling guilty, though. Absent or not, they're still his mom and dad.

It's a Friday afternoon now, and like clockwork Tori's parents burst through the door with their youngest daughter in tow. Tori's told him about a sister, but Robbie's never met her. He assumes Tori's parents pawn her off on some other family whenever they leave Tori with him. As Tori's parent's dash off upstairs in search of Robbie's mom and dad, he notices something is wrong with Tori. She's slouching, and barely moving a muscle. Usually she'd have dragged him to the back yard by now squealing happily about the week's events. Watching as his friend lurches a little bit pathetically across the room, Robbie comes to the conclusion that a sad Tori is not the right kind of Tori.

"What's wrong?" He asks innocently, completely unaware of the Pandora's box he's opening with those fateful words. Probably for the first time since Robbie's met her, there isn't a smile playing at Tori's lips, or at least on the horizon. It's all so unfamiliar, and Robbie _really_ doesn't know what to do. Tears begin to slide down Tori's cheeks and her shoulders rattle haphazardly. With that, Robbie feels the shards of something digging into the bottom of his chest. Scratching lightly at his collarbone, Robbie wonders what's broken inside of him.

Robbie being Robbie, remains silent as Tori whimpers lightly. Her lip quivers feebly, and Robbie feels something coil around his throat. This girl, the only one that's ever so much as talked to him, is falling apart. As he rakes his mind for a solution, Robbie stumbles over the memory of his new Drake & Josh DVD coming in the mail yesterday. Hesitantly, Robbie wraps his fingers around Tori's hand and begins the unexpectedly arduous task of extricating Tori from her place near the doorway. Cheeks stained red the entire time, Robbie struggles valiantly up the stairs with Tori in tow. Robbie wonders if he's this heavy usually when Tori is dragging him places. Momentarily impressed by her strength, Robbie wonders if he should voice this thought. Glancing over his shoulder and seeing that Tori's still crying, Robbie thinks that maybe it's not a good idea. He's seen his dad get yelled at enough times to know mentioning how heavy a girl is to her face is a terrible idea at the best of times.

"Why are you crying? We can watch this if you tell me. It's new – I got it off the Internet. I don't even – well we haven't seen it so it hasn't even been on TV yet!" Robbie dashes across his room, drags his DVD into his clutches, and almost bludgeons Tori with his words all in on movement. Ordinarily Robbie'd be feeling fairly impressed with himself for not stumbling over his feet. Right now though, it seems somehow not very important. Tori forces a smile at his words, but it's an unhappy twist of her lips that doesn't exactly allay Robbie's fears. Doubts begin to creep into his head. Maybe Tori's realized how lame he is, that there are better places to waste away a Friday. Clutching his DVD tighter, Robbie wonders if maybe -

"My hair is ruined." Tori states miserably, breaking Robbie from his thoughts. To emphasize the point, she lifts a few scattered locks where her hair has almost been cropped out of existence. Squinting a little bit, Robbie pushes his glasses higher onto his nose and cranes his neck. It looks a little bit like Tori has gotten into a fight with a pair of hedge clippers. He purses his lips and pauses to feel bad for her. Tori's told him before that her hair is the only thing she really likes about himself, ignoring Robbie's best attempts to mention all of the things _he_ likes about her with a bashful laugh.

"So. Uh, what happened? Is that what I should be – um. You don't have to answer that." Robbie asks, suddenly staring intently at floor as random nonsense spews through his lips and pads out the silence. Feeling a prickling at the back of his neck, Robbie slowly raising his gaze and finds that Tori is looking at him. She's still whimpering a little bit, but Robbie could swear he sees a flicker of the girl he usually meets on Friday nights hidden deep in her eyes.

After several broken exhales, Tori forces the tale of her tarnished locks through her lips. She's been taking a dancing class at her school as an extra curricular because her mom had tossed her into it with the promise that it would improve her confidence and coordination. When Tori pauses, Robbie wants to tell her that she doesn't need any improvements, but the streak of yellow up his spine holds his tongue at bay. While Robbie's cursing his cowardice, Tori goes on to recall an incident from Thursday's practice which had lead to this current situation. Apparently she'd annoyed the wrong classmate and had ended up with several slices of cheese flat ironed into her hair. Robbie scrunches up his face and wonders what kind of person would do that. He also contemplates whether Tori had been a slaughterhouse owner or maybe a milk baron in a previous life. Dairy and Tori do _not_ mix well.

"…and Mom said they didn't have time to get it fixed up properly right now, so I'm stuck like this for the moment." Tori concludes disconsolately, looking as though it's the end of the world. When another tear rolls down Tori's face, Robbie wants to tell her she's still the prettiest girl he knows, inside and out, lopsided hair and all. The fact that Tori's probably the only girl Robbie _actually _knows seems irrelevant. When he goes to speak, all that jumps from his lips is a jumbled series of syllables though.

"You don't have cooties." Robbie blurts out loudly, catching Tori off guard. She blinks once, then twice. The miserable expression lifts from Tori's face, and her nose crinkles in a way that Robbie's more than familiar with. He's seen that very same expression every time he's tried to explain his math homework to Tori. It's confusion, pure and simple confusion.

"Uh, what?" Tori asks, quirking her head slightly to the side. What's left of her hair spills onto her shoulder, and Robbie thinks he prefers confusion to misery.

"Cooties. You're uh, not - other girls have them. I don't think you do. You're like way too nice, you have pretty eyes, er and it doesn't matter if your hair is wonky. I still think that er, it's nice too. I mean, well I don't mean that it's nice as in it talks to me like the rest of you – Well, your mouth really, I…Turtle shells." Robbie babbles, finishing with a frustrated exclamation. How is it that a simple word could lead him into such an incomprehensible babble. Talking to Tori is supposed to be easy, well it is easy, maybe too easy. Robbie just feels ridiculous that whenever he talks about how _he_ feels, his tongue begins to trip.

"Robbie Shapiro, are you saying you _like_ me?" Tori queries, leaning forwards slightly and dragging out the word for emphasis. There's a sly look on her face, and all of the thoughts skittering around inside of Robbie's head come to an almost comically abrupt halt.

"Of course I like you. You're my best friend." Robbie replies in wonder, lips pushing upwards reassuringly. He wonders if his words had been that jumbled up. He'd tried very painfully to make it clear that Tori is his best friend. Maybe she has a hearing problem of some sort, or a vocabulary deficiency, he theorizes. Robbie's probably a bit too space out, because he barely notices when the grin on Tori's lips flickers.

"Yeah, best friends." Tori says, socking Robbie in the arm a little too enthusiastically. Robbie's not terribly sure about what to do next, he wonders about whether or not he should go and put the DVD in. Maybe he should go and prepare some popcorn, maybe – his body takes over. While Robbie's mind is preoccupied, his arms lurch upwards and expand outwards in offering. When they're almost fully extended, Robbie's mind re-engages and his eyes widen in horror. Expecting Tori to flinch, or say something about boys being gross, Robbie tries to drop his arms.

Except he can't.

Tori's already lurched forward, so Robbie's hands wind up striking Tori in the collarbone. It's not the perfect hug, not even slightly. Robbie's too small and uncoordinated to really do anything about that. Even still, he feels happy and kind of lucky. Other than her collarbone, Tori's soft and warm. Kind of like a life sized teddy bear, or that ratty Cuddle Me Cathy doll she sometimes brings with her.

"Feel better?" Robbie asks, the words scratching against his throat. Nervously, he waits for Tori to say something, anything. She doesn't though, not for a while, and Robbie feels like he's going to burst. When Tori finally moves, it's only to glance furtively over his shoulder. For a brief, horrifying moment, Robbie thinks she's going to leap through his open window. But then there's the flash of a smile and the sound of Tori clomping towards his bed.

"I will once we're watching this." Tori says hanging over the edge of Robbie's bed, collecting his Drake & Josh DVD from the ground in what could loosely be termed a barrell roll. From the slight crinkle in her nose, Robbie wonders if maybe Tori's already on the road to recovery.

With a slight shrug, Robbie prys the DVD from Tori's outstretched hand and strides towards the television. Bending at the waist, Robbie pushes the DVD into the player that's a new addition to his room. It's another present from his parents, and Robbie guess it's a substitute for their absence. A frown blooms on the edge of Robbie's lips at the thought of his absentee mom and dad. He's all set to start feeling sorry for himself until he turns around. Propped up on her elbows, Tori's looking at Robbie expectantly and patting the empty space of his favourite side of the bed. At the sight of Tori's improved mood, Robbie finds those depressing thoughts are further away than usual.

Robbie climbs onto the bed and stays there until after the sun rises again.

* * *

When the Summer Holidays limp into their last week, Robbie's parents have grown even more scarce than usual. In his less rational moments, Robbie wonders if maybe they're scared of the way the trees leaves are turning to rust. The rest of the time, he's got his hands full with Tori Vega. By the time the last Friday of their break comes around, Tori's practically become a part of the furniture in the Shapiro house hold. Robbie thinks she's a lovely addition to the houses drab décor, even with her new haircut. He's not so sure Alfonz shares a similar opinion, though. Robbie finds that his so called minder seems to sink into the shadows whenever Tori is around, which is often. Robbie suspects that maybe Alfonz is holding a grudge from the first time he'd met Tori. It was quite remarkable really, within three minutes of them being in the same room together, a bowl of cream cheese had wound up on Alfonz's head. Memories of that cream cheese though, that's what make Robbie's current situation so…well, so depressing.

Alfonz doesn't even like Tori, and yet ten days ago she'd managed to talk him into going along with what Robbie's come to regard one of the worst ideas ever. Fresh off a rare visit from her grandparents, Tori had darted through the front door clasping an ancient looking book that she'd claimed was her grandmother's cookbook. All bright eyes and even brighter smiles, Tori had coerced Alfonz into cooking every recipe from its pages in alphabetical order. Peering down at the green cube in front of him, Robbie thinks Tori's supposed cookbook might actually be some kind of medieval grimorie. Possibly one meant to inflict a slow, painful death on ones enemies.

"So…what's this?" Robbie asks, nodding at his plate, while simultaneously trying to avoid looking directly into the suspicious looking green cube sitting atop it. It's kind of tempting to jab the murky substance with his fork, but being the cautious boy that he is, Robbie is also a little afraid that his meal might leap up and attack him.

"Uh…Asparagus and Tuna Risotto." Tori replies, picking up the dusty tome that given birth to this latest abomination and scanning over it's contents. When Tori's sad eyes meet his, Robbie plasters a smile to his lips. He's fairly sure that she's aware of just how terrible this little experiment is turning out. Picking up his fork, Robbie hesitantly pokes his dinner. It doesn't attack him, so he prods it again. He's not really sure how long he's been jabbing his dinner when the lilting sound of Tori's giggling rolls through the air. Tori stifles it with a squeak when Robbie looks at her, and he feel sort of bad. Maybe he had been glaring.

"So uh, my parents left me some emergency money, and I'm fairly sure that _this _is an emergency. Pizza, my treat?" Robbie blurts out, trying in vein to keep a lid on his disdain for Asparagus and Tuna Risotto while simultaneously soothing his ruffled friend. Tori hums to herself, and prods at her own dinner in consideration. When it wobbles dangerously, she recoils in horror and drops her fork.  
"Please." Tori squeaks fearfully, hands clasped close to her chest. A smile perches on Robbie's lips, and he gleefully steps in the direction of the phone. While he's ordering their meal, Tori ambles past him with their plates cradled against her waist. She smiles gratefully, and Robbie doesn't think he's ever been happier to make a phone call. It's not even because Tori's just put what had been their dinner in the trash. Honestly, that's not the only reason. Honestly.

No more than fifteen minutes later, Robbie finds himself parked behind another large pizza with Tori Vega at his side. Watching her struggle to pull a particularly tenacious slice away from its brothers, Robbie finds that he's not at all sick of eating pizza with her, even if his stomach kind of is.

Tori demolishes three slices, and then decides that hide and seek might be a good idea. Robbie doesn't have the heart to tell her that they're probably too old to play, and he's sort of queasy. Tori looks way too excited about the prospect of playing, her eyes are shimmering with delight, and her lips are twitching upwards happily. Robbie doesn't have the heart to deny himself that sight either.

That shimmer and that twitch, they're the reasons that Robbie finds himself sitting beneath the kitchen sink with a funny feeling in his stomach for the next forty five minutes and thirty six seconds. When Tori finally drags the cupboards open, Robbie just tumbles onto the floor in relief. He's so happy to be free that he doesn't even bother to check which direction Tori is sprinting off in.

Shortly afterwards, Robbie realises this gaffe and buries his head in his hands with great despair. Technically it would be cheating, but Robbie tells himself Tori _was _the one who went running off before he could start counting. Not that it matters anymore Robbie thinks, pushing the less than relevant thought aside and lurching to his feet.

After a rather fruitless fifteen minutes of searching, Robbie comes to three conclusions. One, Tori's exceedingly good at Hide and Seek. Two, it's going to be a very, very long night spent looking for the stray Vega. Three, it's not the worst thing he could be doing with his night. Loping through the halls, Robbie finds himself smiling just a little bit. The lights are off, but the shadows don't seem so dark tonight for some reason.

* * *

**Well, one chapter down, about three billion to go. If you've got requests or ideas then now is probably the time to make them. Also, saying you like this and think it should continue would be pretty cool, ya know.**


	2. The Most Beautiful Plague

_We came down to watch the world walk by_  
_And all she found was trouble in my eyes_  
_From the sky she pulled me down tonight_

_- Rough Landing, Holly - Yellowcard_

* * *

The crinkle of a paper bag slapping his cheek drags Robbie into the waking world. As the gears within his head shudder to a start, Robbie concludes that this is surely a Monday. No other day would be so rude as to wake him in such a manner. Hauling himself upright, and rattling loose a yawn, Robbie unfurls the bag that's just struck him, and peers into it. It's a lunch._ His_lunch.

His. Lunch.

Falling back into his mountain of pillows, Robbie lays on his back and feels vaguely miserable at the realisation. Considering that it's the first time in four semesters that Robbie's had his lunch prepared for him, Robbie feels a twinge of gratitude towards Alfonz. Also, he feels a swell of nausea in the pit of his stomach. It's not the food, not really. It's more what it represents. Rather than just being a tightly packed meal, Robbie thinks that the paper bag currently cradled against his torso is more like a beacon. A dull, crinkling beacon that's so kindly telling Robbie that today is his first day of middle school. Screwing his eyelids shut, Robbie tries to blot out that horrible, horrible realisation with something else, _anything_else.

That proves successful for a brisk, but incredibly satisfying three minutes for Robbie Shapiro. After that, he makes the horrible, horrible mistake of turning to face his alarm clock. All of the bliss, all of the relaxation he'd been so happily indulging in unravels at the sight of four blinking numbers. With rapidly increasing dread, Robbie gets out – well, mostly falls out of bed.

He is _so_freakin' late.

Eventually, finally, Robbie stumbles through the gates of his new school. Those final few steps are painful, incredibly so. Robbie's lungs are burning from his aggressive attempt at being on time, and he's wearing a shirt that's not even his. It's way too big and the design is a massive white symbol that Robbie doesn't recognize. Those facts, coupled with the fact that he's got no idea what a _Ramone_is, have lead Robbie to the conclusion that he is in fact wearing somebody else's shirt. Creeping through the halls, Robbie guesses that's what happens when you spend an entire weekend on a sugar high, and can consequently barely peel yourself out of bed Monday morning. Mistakes can be made when you blow through the laundry and sweep up the first shirt in sight. Still not totally sure of where he's going, Robbie wonders where exactly the shirt he's swimming in has come from. It's too big for his mom, and he's pretty sure that his father only likes numbers and strong smelling drinks. Maybe that's what a Ramone is, a drink or a number, he theorizes.

"The Ramones?" A random girl sneers; coming from nowhere and almost sending Robbie flying out of the new pair of Vans Tori had helped him pick out. Still hacking up deep breaths, Robbie holds his hand over his chest and gives it a slight tap. Satisfied that it's returning to its usual rhythm, Robbie finally wills up the courage to look at the girl who's just addressed him. Well, sort of. Her eyebrows are all scrunched up, and she's managing to look both intimidating _and_bored at the same time.

In spite the fact that he's plainly aware of her presence, Robbie again flies roughly three feet into the air out of sheer panic when the girl plants her feet and lingers in front of him. With a huff, she folds her arms across her chest and looks annoyed. Robbie realizes after a painfully moment of silence that she's waiting for him to say something. It's bewildering to say the least.

"Yep. I love er, Ramones." Robbie eventually hacks out, trying to sound as though he's actually aware of what a Ramone is. It's his ignorance that makes Robbie feel obligated to visit the library during lunch period. Maybe it's something more important than a number or stupid drink that makes a father forget who his son is.

"_Yep, I love er, Ramones._" The girl parrots, wrinkling her nose in mild disgust. Before Robbie can say anything, she's shaking her head and wandering towards a classroom. _His_classroom, Robbie realizes at the sight of a number above the door. Still shell shocked over the way his morning is panning out, Robbie spends a moment lingering in the hallway. He just stands there gawping at the door and drowning in what's probably his father's shirt. Robbie's sad little vigil carries on until the school bell rattles to life. The sudden cacophony of sound sends him scuttling towards a door that's still recovering from a sneering girl slamming it in an unnecessarily way.

Slinking through the doorway, Robbie sits down at a vacant desk on the fringes of the classroom. Pulling his books out, Robbie notices that the sneering girl, Ramones Girl, as his brain has dubbed her, has done much the same thing. Over the course of the day, Robbie realizes that most of the girls in the class are the same ones from his elementary school. They're all sunshine and lollipops, with kind words for anybody not named Robbie Shapiro. Near the end of his first day at middle school, Robbie also notices that Ramones Girl is a little bit different. Not only had she not gone to his elementary school, but she's almost the polar opposite of sunshine and lollipops. Watching as Ramones Girl lashes out at a boy trying to occupy a seat beside her, Robbie thinks that she's more like razorblades in a hurricane. Covertly observing the situation, Robbie notices that not only is she lacking in kind words for anybody, but she's lacking in words of any kind. Ramones Girl hadn't actually said anything _nice_ to him exactly, but Robbie can't help but feel a little bit smug that she'd said _something_to him. Idly, Robbie wonders if those five little words in the hallway had made him and Ramones Girl friends. It's a tenuous link at best, but after a pretty barren eleven years, Robbie will take what he can get.

The rest of the day passes by, dragging its heels in a frustrating way. The only thing that distracts Robbie from the monotony and solitude of his day is observing the way Ramones Girl tends to lash out at the most random intervals. Robbie thinks it's a bit like watching Animal Planet, one of the shows on the African wilderness or something. Robbie's briefly amused by the thought. But then with great sadness, he realizes that if the classroom is anything like the Serengeti, he's probably a Gazelle or something equally as feeble. The comparison only becomes more apt when the final bell of the day cuts through the room like an air raid siren.

It feels like the bell hasn't even finished ringing before Robbie has flown from his seat and back in the direction of the front gate. Humming happily to himself, Robbie makes no secret of how pleased he is that finally he can go back home. In one day, he's come to the conclusion that Middle School is no better than Elementary School. Going back to his parent's cavernous home will actually be a welcome relief. Robbie's so single-minded in his focus that he doesn't notice the shadow trailing him. Eventually the shadow grows impatient and clears its throat. Easing to a halt, Robbie swallows apprehensively. In all of his years at school, nothing good has come from an unfamiliar presence clearing its throat behind him. Robbie slowly turns and glances over his shoulder. He's not sure whether to be relieved or terrified to see Ramones Girl behind him. Sure she looks annoyed, but then again, it seems like that might be her default expression.

"You there, you live on Ocean Avenue, right?" She asks gruffly. Well, Robbie guesses it's a question. It sounds like an order, a terrifying order. He thinks if he didn't live on Ocean Avenue, he'd ask his parents to move there, just to avoid irritating this girl further. His mind reels back to the times he's seen her temper fray violently over the course of the day. Sure it had been a little entertaining from a distance. The thing about that is that Robbie's still_ really _sure he doesn't want an up close demonstration.

"Y-yepperoni." Robbie replies, treading lightly and coughing up the word nervously. When Robbie's voice hits the air, Ramones Girl's nose wrinkles up and she regards him distastefully. Her dark eyebrows slam over the piercing emerald eyes Robbie's come to associate with her, and Robbie immediately regrets his choice of words.

"Don't _ever_say that ever again. Actually, don't speak at all. Also, carry this." With those words, Ramones Girl tosses her bag at Robbie. It drives into his midsection, and Robbie finds the air rushing out of his lungs as he almost crumbles under its weight. Wheezing pitifully, Robbie thinks Ramones Girl might be smuggling the school missing encyclopedia set inside. He knows it's missing because his attempts at figuring out what exactly a Ramone is had proven fruitless at the library during lunch period. Robbie's still wondering just how many letters of the alphabet Ramones Girl might be trying to smuggle out of the school when a pale arm shoots out and shoves him in the direction of Ocean Avenue. Twisting, Robbie tries to think of a way to articulate that he does not want to morph from a gazelle to a pack mule. There's a muted moment while's mind flails feebly, as it's prone to do in social situations. When Ramones girl snarls, Robbie abruptly abandons his attempts to be anything but her pack mule and just turns right back around.

After that somewhat terrifying encounter, Robbie winds up carrying the granite like slab otherwise known as Ramones Girl's bag for the rest of the week.

* * *

It's Saturday now, and Robbie just wishes he were at home. Not just because his back kind of aches, but also because he could be hanging out with Tori. You know, _his_ friend. Such is Robbie's luck though, that his parents have decided that his services are required at this particular event. Robbie supposes it's because _their_friends, their very important friends, are to be attending with their children.

Trailing behind his parents, Robbie ignores the grandeur of the ballroom that he's setting foot into and just wishes Tori's parents were a part of this particular social circle. Robbie wants to curse his parents for skittering between two sets of friends, but logical part of his brain just won't let him do it. If it weren't for his parent's proclivity for socializing, then Robbie realizes quite miserably that he wouldn't even know about Tori's existence. With that fairly depressing thought in mind, Robbie plays his part, trying to look happy and enthusiastic. These people are probably important. Who knows, some of them might even have children like Tori. Robbie somehow doubts that, but keeps the smile plastered to his lips anyway.

"Jefferson!" Yet another man wails to Robbie's father, throwing his arms out in greeting. Robbie's overcome with the urge to bury his head in his hands. He wonders if maybe people at his father's company are legally prevented from simply saying hello. Watching as his father moves swiftly towards this latest, and rather spidery looking colleague, Robbie wrings his fingers nervously. He's never met this man before, but he swears he recognizes some of his facial features.

Robbie's father falls into conversation with the man, and Robbie just stands there feeling very out of place. After a few minutes, Robbie catches his mom's eye, and she takes pity on him. When she stoops down to his level, all wide eyed and understanding, Robbie thinks his mom actually almost looks like a parent for a moment. Being that this is a Shapiro family moment, and by extension that moment is a part of Robbie Shapiro's life, it obviously doesn't last. His mom speaks and the illusion is shattered.

"I think some of the other children are in the garden Robert. You should go out and network." Robbie's mom says stiffly, ringlets of raven hair hanging between herself and her son. Pulling his lips into a tight, agreeable smile, Robbie drifts in the direction of the wide doors.

A few moments later, and Robbie is peering out into an ocean of shrubbery. Several affluent looking children dot the yard, but none of their faces are familiar, so Robbie takes a seat in the shadows. Melting into the darkness, Robbie just lingers and thinks about how _yard_seems like much too crass of a term for somewhere like this place. There's got to be something grander, something more fitting. Robbie slips into his thoughts, letting the pursuit of a better word curl around him and help him forget where he is. Robbie's waded so deeply in his head that he barely notices the dull thud beside him as somebody sits down.

After a while, a feminine voice starts to hum, and Robbie dares to look over at his companion. She's a small girl, miniscule really. Her warm chocolate eyes are out of place on a cold night that's filled with even colder shoulders. Robbie chances a smile in her direction, and she sends a shiver up his spine by returning the gesture. Robbie feels a little less agitated at being spotted after that. He's not totally at ease of course, but it feels like the wire winding within his chest and strangling his heart has loosened a little. The girl giggles for no reason, swings her legs absently and generally just looks amused by the moonlight.

"I'm Caterina." She says after a while, smiling airily. Robbie gawps at the hand dangling between himself and the girl, _Caterina_, for a while before shuddering into motion. He clasps her hand gently; feeling like it's a butterfly wing that might crumble if he's not especially careful.

"Robbie." With his natural charm practically soaking the air, Robbie manages to choke out something resembling an introduction eventually. Caterina beams and plucks her hand from Robbie's, seemingly unperturbed by his total lack of social coordination. Twisting his lips into a pale imitation of her grin, Robbie actually feels grateful that he's been dragged kicking and screaming to this particular social engagement. Also, he thinks there might be little heart shaped bubbles floating above his head. This whole maybe, sort of being in love thing, it's not as terrifying as the movies Tori and him always watch make it out to be.

"Wanna go see the fireflies?" Caterina pipes up, cutting through Robbie's wonderful dream where they're living in a small cottage on the coast of Portland. At least in this case, reality isn't quite the slap to the face that Robbie is used to. In fact, it's not even really a slap. More of a gentle nudge toward the real world, actually.

Well, it's sort of the real world. Actually it's Caterina's world. Peering into the distance, Robbie realizes that the world according to Caterina only occasionally overlaps with what most people would consider reality. Glancing at Caterina, Robbie thinks the world must be a confusing place for her. It is after all, a place where city lights in the distance can be confused with fireflies. Leaning against a tree, Robbie just watches and listens as Caterina babbles enthusiastically about Disney princesses, unicorns and the wonder of it all. Robbie doesn't have the heart to tell her that there's no such thing as magic. Caterina's smile is seemingly ever present, but Robbie gets the impression a slight gust of reality could shatter it so he stifles the words on his tongue.

Below them, the lights slowly start to burn out, and Robbie realizes it's kind of getting late. Their parents – well, Caterina's parents could be looking for them. With great reluctance, Robbie says this to Caterina. Instead of the easy smile he's so gotten used to, her face contorts with panic. No sooner have the words left Robbie's lips, and he's oh so alone. His shoulders droop miserably, and he's all set to start feeling sorry for himself, but then two arms appear from nowhere and wrap around him.

"Good night Robbie." It's Caterina's voice, and it simultaneously calms Robbie's heart and sends it into an even worse fit than when he'd thought somebody was trying to strangle him. When Robbie finally wills his tongue into action, conjuring his own goodbye, Caterina is skipping out of earshot and into the distance.

Robbie's left with his own thoughts and his clunking heart. For once though, that's not entirely the worst thing. His mind is swimming with the kind of happiness that only Tori's been able to bring about in the past, and Robbie finds himself just sort of smiling about his evening. Girls aren't really that bad, Robbie thinks to himself as he trudges back to the balcony he'd been stationed at earlier in the evening. In fact, Robbie thinks that maybe girls are actually okay if you find the right ones. Flopping back into a seat, Robbie wonders if maybe there are people of his own gender that are you know, not going to be entirely horrible to him. With that thought, one of the taller, scarier looking boys from Robbie's class scuffs his way past. When Robbie chances a hopeful wave, all he receives is a sneer that's infinitely more vicious than the ones Ramones Girl has inflicted upon him. Robbie droops lower into his seat and feels like that little experience had been fate's way of laughing at his petty hopes and dreams.

Eventually, after what feels like forever, but is probably only around two hours or so, Robbie's parents stumble onto the balcony to collect him. Shockingly, Robbie's father doesn't seem to have inhaled any of his usual beverages. Robbie notes that both of his parents are remarkably lucid for such a late hour. In fact they're both looking quite aware of their surroundings, painfully so even. A thick silence fills the first part of the ride home, and Robbie guesses it's just because lucidity past midnight is not exactly in either of his parent's repertoire. They're probably just not sure how to handle it, he theorizes, feeling rather bad for the both of them.

"Did you speak to anyone this evening, Robert?" Robbie's dad inquires some time later, once they're on the freeway. Robbie sits up a little and rubs his eyes, having drifting dangerously close to sleep during the drive. As his mind kicks into gear, Robbie can't help but notice his father's tone. It's clipped of the usual pleasantries one might expect from a parent, lacking the basic warmth to ignite a real conversation. Robbie rather feels like he's been dropped into the middle of a business meeting.

"Yeah dad. Her name was Caterina." Robbie replies, something like butterflies returning to his stomach at the mere mention of those eight wondrous letters. His father grunts, and Robbie guesses he'd forgotten to sound formal as his father had. The narrowing russet eyes in the rear vision mirror only confirm Robbie's suspicion that his answer hadn't been entirely satisfactory.

"The Valentine girl?" Robbie's mom asks idly, the barest hint of interest in her tone. The curt nod his dad offers is anything but warm, and Robbie feels his stomach sink low into his gut. Oh course his father doesn't approve of the one person that actually spoke to him tonight.

"Robbie, I want you to be careful around that girl. If she's anything like her brother, then she's trouble. At your age, you don't need to be associating with the wrong crowd. This is a pivotal time in your education and you need to start thinking about Colleges enrolment forms." At the very least, Robbie's father sounds sincere when he starts ranting about the future, Robbie guesses. He really wishes his father would sound passionate about something a little more interesting than college though. Robbie's got two graduations to make it through before then. Also, the talk about trouble, Robbie really doesn't think his father knows whom he's talking to. If he were around a little more, maybe he'd realize his son is the only person to graduate North Ridge Elementary School with perfect attendance. Robbie's not exactly the troublemaking type, and he doubts a slightly spacy girl is going to change that.

"I will be dad." Robbie mumbles, still mostly paying attention to his thoughts instead of his father's continued ramblings about Ivy League schools or whatever it is he's saying. Robbie sinks into his seat and just nods along. Eventually his father will lose interest. That much is certain. All Robbie's got to do is look interested until his father's mind flitters to something else.

It always does.

* * *

**Alright, so some of you guys and gals are probably thinking isn't this a Rori fic, Where the hell is Tori? Sorry everyone, she went on strike, citing difficulties in working with our stunt cheese. I'm hopeful that she'll be back in full force in a few chapters though. Also, who'd care to hazard a guess as to who Ramones Girl might be? :) Expect another update in a few days, I'm aiming for twice a week from here on for this fic. Wish me luck!**


	3. Living Slightly Larger

_**No lyrics this week, but this one goes out to anybody that's suffering this week. It's not much, but if it helps distracts you for a few minutes, that's my job done. Xx**_

* * *

All too often, Robbie finds himself occupying entire tables at a time during school hours. Sometimes a stray student flitters near him, but before they ever sit down, the stench of his social status propels them in the opposite direction. Robbie's not bothered by that, not really. The only thing that really gnaws at him is one continued absence. Tori's been telling Robbie that her parents are going to enrol her at his school any day now for the last month. Lately, Robbie just nods along and acts like his faith hasn't already withered away. It's not that Robbie doesn't believe Tori. He does. It's her parents that he doubts. From what Robbie can tell, the only thing they're good for on a consistent basis is a ride to his house on Friday afternoons.

Robbie drags his heels through the first three weeks of the semester. It's not that his classes are difficult; it's just that Robbie feels very solitary. If weekends beside Tori are drenched in technicolour, then weekdays at school are stripped back to black and white. It's Tuesday now, and Robbie once again finds himself eating his sad little sandwich in his sad little corner at the edge of the courtyard. He's alone, obviously. So when the clap of heavy footwear draws near, Robbie tenses up out of habit. At school, approaching footsteps don't usually mean good things for him. When he finally dares to peer upwards, Robbie sees waves of brown hair drifting towards him in the breeze. It's the girl from his class, the one that doesn't socialize with anybody except for him. Well, sort of.

Ramones Girl slumps onto the ground beside Robbie and begins to unpack her lunch. Digging into a pocket of her bag, the girl produces a small apple and something that looks vaguely like a burrito. Robbie just watches his new companion curiously. Aside from making him carry her bag home after school, Ramones Girl usually ignores Robbie and the rest of the world. This whole eating lunch together thing is new. New and slightly terrifying, Robbie thinks as he watches Ramones Girl hack and slash at her poor lunch. Taking an idle bite of his sandwich, Robbie wonders what exactly prompted her to come and sit with him on today of all days. He also wonders if maybe a formal introduction is in order. Robbie's lips are just beginning to part when a sharpened glare from Ramones Girl informs him that no, a formal introduction will not be required. Taking another bite from his sandwich, Robbie feels oddly unphased all of a sudden. Jagged as her edges are, and as absent as her name is, Robbie's finally got something resembling a friend at school.

Lunch period actually flies past, and it's a phenomenon Robbie's never really encountered before. He guesses it's because his mind is actually occupied instead of wandering aimlessly. Robbie's bursting with questions, desperately wanting to ask _why_. He never manages to stitch the words to his tongue though. Somehow the entire period passes before a word can slip through Robbie's lips. The high pitched wail of the school bell rings, and all of a sudden Robbie's scuffing his way back to class with a yellow streak staining his back.

Apparently that's not the worst thing in the world though. When Robbie slumps into his seat, he's ready for another afternoon of solitude. That afternoon of solitude, it turns out, only lasts about three minutes and forty seconds. During that time Robbie hears the hushed tones of Mrs James talking to somebody. Casting a surreptitious glance in the direction of the voice, Robbie sees Mrs James craning her neck over Ramones Girl's shoulder while saying something. Whatever is said pries an irritated growl from Ramones Girl and shortly after, the granite slab also known as her bag crashes onto the table in front of Robbie. Ramones Girl falls into the seat beside him seconds after. She still doesn't make chit chat with Robbie, or any kind of chat actually. It's okay though, Robbie realizes. There's a kind of peace that comes with quiet between two people. It's much less deafening than the silence of one, he concludes.

All too soon, that peace is left in shards on the ground. Mrs James flitters over to Robbie's, well Robbie and Ramones Girl's desk, he guesses. She's armed with a thick block of paper, and Robbie realizes that the reason Ramones Girl has been transplanted to his desk is a group assignment. Robbie peers down at the top sheet and immediately feels sort of ill. It's nothing but numbers and alien symbols. It makes Robbie long for the days when the most complicated thing he had to deal with was a plus sign. Chancing a glance at Ramones Girl, Robbie suspects she feels a similar way. Her lips have curled up in disgust, and she looks less than enthralled by what's landed in front of her.

"Jade West! What do you think you're doing?"

Robbie rapidly descends into his thoughts, and the rough bark that emanates from Mrs James is what finally drags his back. She clomps back over to where Robbie and Ramones girl are seated. The usually ever-present smile on her face is ominously absent. Heart still hammering in his chest, Robbie scans the room for the source of his usually affable teacher's irritation. When Robbie's eyes turn to Ramones Girl, the answer is suddenly and very obviously staring him in the face. _Jade_, not Ramones Girl apparently, has shredded her assignment with a pair of purple scissors.

While harsh white noise spills out of Mrs James' mouth and Robbie just sits very still. He feels both very afraid of the sudden thunderstorm that his teacher has become, and also stricken by the information that he's just received. _Jade_, his friends name is Jade. Well, he guesses they're friends. At the very least Jade is his new math partner apparently. Still swimming in the thoughts filling his head, Robbie just jerks his head into a nod when he hears his name fly off Mrs James' lips. Apparently it's the wrong thing to do, because Mrs James looks less than impressed. A few curt words later, and Robbie finds his afternoons have been booked solid for the next two days. Detention, and for the first time in his life!

Despite the time Robbie spends fretting over the subject, detention comes and goes without much of a fuss. Struggling under the weight of Jade's bag after their first session, Robbie thinks it wasn't very impressive at all. It was nothing like what Robbie had seen on television. There weren't any whacky antics, and nobody tried to escape. Instead it's had just been Robbie, Jade, and all of the other delinquents from their grade. All in all, Robbie just wonders what the fuss had been about.

* * *

It's Wednesday afternoon now, and crimson light is bleeding through the curtains when Robbie gets home. He's only taken three or four steps inside when phone blares to life and causes him to almost fly out of his shoes. Robbie guesses he's more highly strung than usual because he's just gotten sprung from the pokey - which he just recently found out is Jade's somewhat antiquated term for leaving detention. It's also one of the few things she's actually vocalized to Robbie since mimicking his voice on the first day of the semester.

Clutching at his chest and inhaling deeply, Robbie crosses the room in several fretful steps and cradles the receiver to his ear. He's fairly sure the eruption of sound that floods through the speaker robs him of his hearing for at least a moment. It's Tori, and she's excited. _Very _excited, actually. Well that might be an understatement, Robbie thinks. His ears are still ringing, a sure sign that Tori's on the verge of exploding into a cloud of rainbow dust, or sugar - whatever it is girls are made of. Between that troubling mental image and the screaming in his ears, Robbie's still able to make out a few key facts though.

Apparently the Vega family had made an ill advised trip to the lake last weekend. Robbie basically shrieks that it's the dead of autumn - if there is such a thing to Tori. She just mumbles that she'd said the same thing in an uncharacteristically dour tone. The crux of it is that three out of four Vega family members are currently hitched to their beds. Tori it seems, not only has the distinction of having the strongest white blood cells in her family, but also she's their designated maid this weekend. Well, actually she's hoping to be just _one_of them. In a pleading tone, Tori asks Robbie if he'll come over and help. Also, she promises to pay for dinner, which sort of - well not really, factors into Robbie's very abrupt affirmative answer.

The next few days after that phone call elapse at a sickeningly slow pace. By the time it's Friday afternoon, Robbie's on the verge of plotting an ambush against father time himself – that is if he can find a flux capacitor. Tori's sat Robbie down and made him watch Back to the Future enough times for that particular piece of information to embed itself very deeply into his brain. With that idle thought curling around his brain, Robbie taps fretfully on the sleeping bag that's now resting in his lap. _Where_is his mother? He's only a car ride away from seeing what Tori's house looks like, and today of all days she decides to be late?

Another fifteen or so moments pass before Robbie's mom saunters inside. Her hair is pinned up into a tight bun, and she's wearing a charcoal business suit. Suddenly its painfully obvious to Robbie why she'd been late, a business meeting of course. He's probably lucky that his mom has turned up at all. Robbie's already clambering out of his seat when his mom asks if he's ready. Turning to her and briefly perking an eyebrow, Robbie thinks it's a ridiculous question. He's hold a sleeping bag and his overnight bag has been sitting beside the door since Wednesday night. Of course he's ready! Well, sort of.

Not long after that, Robbie finds himself sitting in the passenger seat of his mom's Lexus. It's nice and all, very sleek - affluent looking. Robbie might even be enjoying the heated seats if it weren't for the way his mom is rattling on about being well behaved. It's not that she isn't hitting all of the right notes for a parent; it's just that Robbie already _knows_ everything she's telling him. Glancing surreptitiously at his mom, Robbie doubts his mom realizes how tightly coiled his nerves are. He sighs, and his mom also says something about a trip in October, which sounds about right. Robbie's parents don't _do_cold.

The empty yards and immaculate lawns of Robbie's neighbourhood eventually give way – as his mom puts it, a less sterile suburb. Robbie's lip curls dismissively at his mother's blue blooded comment. _Of course_his mom would think that the inflatable pools and slides dotting this street – apparently Tori's street, to be unnecessary clutter. A few more twists in the road pass, and then with a final goodbye, Robbie's free of his mom and her unnecessarily conservative opinions. As he meanders along the path to what he's just been told is Tori's house, Robbie wonders if his mom has some sort of obsessive cleaning disorder. It's slightly less daunting than the prospect that she's lost all concept of joy.

A few short steps later, Robbie finds himself standing in front of a not entirely imposing pink door. The door in and of itself isn't imposing, mostly Robbie's intimidated by what's behind it. Concealed within the relatively harmless looking house before him, Robbie's faced with the prospect of a whole herd of Vega's. Three of whom are sick and also more worryingly, are _not_Tori. It's not Tori's parents that have Robbie worried though, not really. He's met them in scattered moments; they seem nice enough – if a little flighty. Mostly, Robbie feels a little overwhelmed at the prospect of meeting Trina. She's either the elder child of David and Holly Vega, or a demon plucked straight from hell, depending which Vega you ask.

In the end, when Robbie winds up his fist and imbues it with enough courage to knock, the sight isn't _actually_that bad. The door swings open, and then Tori's springing forth. Three steps later, Tori's arms lock behind Robbie's neck and she's hugging him like they haven't stolen a moment together in years. It's only when Tori traipses away from Robbie and starts to bustle him inside that he notices the weary fraying at the edges of Tori's cheery appearance. She's swimming in a purple sweater that's several sizes too big. Her hair has fuzzed out in a way that reminds Robbie of his worst days, but then Tori's grinning. Her lips twitch as she starts to speak, and all of those rough edges start to smooth over.

"You're here! You're – I've never…oh man, come inside. This is going be great! I have so many things planned out – well, between the maintaining of my family. But you know, I think we can fit it all in. I even hired out some movies in case the midnight movie is bad this week!" Tori chirps, fluttering all around Robbie and bustling him inside with an energy that he swears has surged from nowhere. Once he's standing in the thick of the Vega family living room, Robbie stoops down and places his overnight bag against their azure couch. He looks up again, Tori's watching him expectantly – sparks of excitement practically jumping from her eyes. Robbie feels slightly overwhelmed Tori's made him feel so wanted, that maybe it's _him_that's pulled this reaction from her and -

"Oh man, what is _that_?" The dismissive tone in that unfamiliar tone drags Robbie back to earth. Whirling around in great confusion, his eyes settle on a girl with vaguely familiar features. She's got the same deep brown hair as Tori, and the same heart shaped face. The difference is in her eyes though. Where Tori's eyes are bright - usually on the verge of melting from the warmth within, this girl's have a detached coldness. A chill settles in the air, and suddenly Robbie doesn't feel so welcome.

"_That_ is Robbie, Trina. Be nice to tha- him. Him, be nice to _him!_" Tori bites out savagely – well tries at least. Robbie doubts Tori has a menacing bone in her body. The unfriendly girl – the infamous Trina apparently, continues to look unimpressed. Robbie just quivers a little bit, whatever menace Tori lacks, well it's been pumped straight into her sister. The stories of Trina's misanthropy it seems have _not_been greatly exaggerated.

"Calm down tumbleweed, I'll play nice with your boyfriend." Trina announces loudly, rolling her eyes with a look of callous irritation. Robbie's face immediately singes, turning a rather unflattering shade of crimson. Beside him, a strangled cry erupts from Tori as her eyes flicker desperately between Robbie and her sister.

"_Notmyboyfriend! _Back to your bed, sick person. Back to your bed!" Tori yelps, mostly all in one breath. Robbie frantically nods his head in mortified agreement. Through it all, Trina just peers at her nails and looks wildly uninspired by the sad, sad spectacle in front of her.

"Ugh, whatever." Trina retorts, flipping her hair dramatically. The long, brunette spools fall over one shoulder, and then she's trudging down a long hallway – probably towards her lair to sit atop a pile of human skulls.

"So, uh…the grand tour you've been telling me about since you found out about me visiting?" Robbie tries, turning tentatively towards Tori. The scornful expression she's been firing after her sister recedes, and then Tori's smiling again – also, bouncing a little bit. Robbie takes this to mean his visit is back on the right track.

"Lets go, daddio – um, Shapiro-o." Tori says happily, confusions briefly flickering over her features and then giving way to another grin. Something kicks in Robbie's chest, and he jumps little in alarm, wondering what it had been. When Tori hooks her arm through his and it happens again, Robbie just lets it happen. It's a warm kind of feeling – not at all the worst thing in the world.

The next hour or so flitters past, and Robbie finds himself slowly drifting from room to room with Tori. It's not a big tour; Tori's house isn't massive. It's just that Tori's got a different story about each corner of every room. Tori occasionally pepper Robbie with offers of drinks, but mostly he's just happy to hear somebody sound so enamoured with the space that they call home. It's nothing like the begrudging acceptance Robbie feels toward the sterile enclosure he's detained at on Ocean Avenue. Between listening to Tori's memories, Robbie just soaks in the sights of Tori's house – of a _family's_ house. Small imperfections dot every room. There are random pieces of clothing – on average two per room, throughout the house. As he wanders down the hallway to the last room – Tori's room, Robbie feels acutely aware of why she looks so overwhelmed at his house. Where Robbie lives is just that, a house. Where Tori lives, it's actually a _home_.

Robbie's not sad for long after that. He doesn't get the chance. Ailments quickly begin to spring up from the rest of Tori's family, and the reason she looks so weary becomes abundantly clear to Robbie. Vega's are not exactly the most accommodating of patients, regardless of age or gender. Eventually, the pleas for assistance subside – Tori says it won't last for long though, so Robbie quickly makes a break for the couch.

The cushions sink beneath Robbie, and he's in the midst of sighing happily when he suddenly – and guiltily realizes Tori's nowhere to be found. Snapping his gaze in one direction and then the other, Robbie wonders where she is. He's quite thankful that he's in Tori's house – it mostly eliminates the possibility that Tori's gotten lost. Not long after Robbie fretfully pulls himself away from the caress of his place on the couch, the stray Vega he's been trying to locate wanders – actually struggles, through a random door.

"What's that?" Robbie squawks in alarm, rushing towards Tori and chivalrously plucking the seemingly innocent looking blue and silver box from her arms._ Seemingly _being the key word there, because it's – well, the thing makes Jade's slab of granite feel like an actual bag. With this fact established, Robbie promptly crumbles beneath the boxes girth. He lands on the floor, and the box lands on him. With the air slowly seeping out of his lungs, Robbie thinks rather miserably that he's about to die at the hands of a box.

"Avenge me." He wheezes dramatically, trying to make his last words good ones.

"It's just Red Bull, it's not – it's not going to kill you." Tori answers dispassionately, huffing slightly as she stoops over and pushes the box off Robbie's chest. As Robbie desperately heaps oxygen into his lungs, Tori flops onto the ground beside him and lies contentedly on her back.

"What's a Red Bull?" Robbie asks, having sucked an acceptable amount of air back into his lungs. Tori turns her head towards Robbie, and a few strands of hair flop over her eyes. Even behind a veil that's obscuring part of her expression, Robbie see's a flicker of amusement.

"Drinks. They're what's going to get _us_ through _their_ illness. And Robbie, you're doing that thing again." Tori says, almost managing a faint glower to emphasize that this supposed _thing _is not at all a good thing. Robbie bolts upright, eyebrows narrowing at what Tori's said.

"What thing? I don't have a thing – you, _you_have a thing." He says, words galvanizing into a defensive tone. If Tori's bothered by Robbie's sudden movement, she doesn't show it. Well, her eyebrows do upturn – and actually, she really does look concerned. Words fail Robbie, so he just sits for a little while, tongue hanging uselessly in the bottom of his mouth.

"So I'm a deep thinker. I'm - that is, it is not a _thing_! It's a - that's what thought is, Tori Vega. You know, if you were around, well I don't think Einstein would have discovered a thing. You constantly telling him um, not to think and stuff." Robbie adds, filling the silence with the first words that will attach themselves to his tongue a moment later.

"Maybe not, but at least I would have told him to cut his hair." Tori shrugs amicably, shoulders jumping in a way that settles Robbie's nerves a little. She's also right, he guesses. Einstein did have sort of, actually _very_unfortunate hair.

"Is my hair is bad?" Robbie blurts out, wishing he weren't so bad with words – well, talking. Robbie feels like maybe with a little more practice, that he could conquer the written form. He's feeling sort of soothed at the memory of several A+ English papers when Tori's head bobs back into his vision. Robbie's about to ask what on earth she's doing when Tori squints slightly, and leans forward to inspect the tightly coiled mop on his head. Robbie just tries not to hyperventilate. He's never been very good with scrutiny – he hopes Tori is a gentle marker.

"It's not bad actually. It's just…it's very fuzzy. Kind of like a sheep, ya know?" Tori says, offering her final judgement with a lopsided little grin. Robbie's expecting her to look away or something, since he's you know, him. But Tori's eyes linger, probably catching every little bit of insecurity that passes through Robbie. He knows this because, well -

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like – I think sheep are nice. They're fuzzy, cuddly, y'know? It's a good thing I promise, I'm just er…there are worse animals you could be. I mean, who wants to hug an armadillo? If I thought you had bad hair, maybe I would have called you armadillo head or something…like…yeah." Tori rambles nonsensically, causing Robbie's eyes to widen – mostly in shock that she's worried about offending him, but also a little bit of horror. Tori's arms are flailing a little, and he wonders if she's short-circuiting.

"Deep breaths, Tori. _Please?_" Robbie asks nicely, hoping that maybe some simple advice will stop her from having a total meltdown. It works, well partially at the very least. Tori calms down enough to the point where her shoulders aren't jumping with every breath.

"So, that Red Bull?" Robbie asks, trying to steer the conversation back towards less spastic waters – as dubious of a metaphor as that might be. Also, as it turns out, he's only succeeded in steering himself into a torrent of caffeine fuelled chaos with the famous last words.

* * *

The bell erupts on the sixth of the semester, and Robbie once again laments Tori introducing Red Bull into his life. When he'd gotten home from detention on Friday afternoon, she'd already been armed with several cans. Neither of them had slept much that weekend, and now Robbie finds that the school bell has transformed into a screeching racket that bludgeons him with the knowledge that he's now late for class. Lungs still running hot from exertion, Robbie lingers in front of his home room for a moment, fingers hesitating over the handle. Screwing his eyes shut, Robbie tries to muster up some kind of courage. Instead, he just sees flashes of Mrs James and Jade on the backs of his eyelids. _That _does not help his unease. He really wishes his math teacher weren't also taking him for home room.

It's the sound of Mrs James beginning to speak that finally jars Robbie into action. Lurching forward, he throws – well nudges, the door open and rushes – creeps actually, inside. The first two rows of students made no secret of their amusement at Robbie's dishevelled state. They're all whispers and stifled laughter as Robbie slinks past Mrs James who is eying him distrustfully. Robbie really feels like he should go and find Mrs James between classes to convince her that he's not a dreg of society, plotting to drag down her classes grade point average or something equally as sinister.

Robbie's midway through the classroom when he realizes that his usual desk is gone. Well not gone exactly, it's still there. It just so happens Jade is sitting in her seat from Friday and there's a boy occupying the seat beside her. Robbie recognizes the kid too. He's blonde, his name is Gary, and he's already got enough friends. Robbie's steps crawl to a stop as the interloper babbles animatedly about something to Jade. She's scowling and her shoulders cut sharp lines against the wall, but that's nothing new so Robbie doesn't feel like he's missed or anything. Looking around the room for a vacant desk, or maybe a hole to crawl into, Robbie's relatively sure the muscles in Jade's body just aren't sure of how to do much else.

Feeling more than a little crushed, Robbie drops his shoulders and wanders aimlessly towards a solitary looking desk. It's particularly enticing because it's way,_ way_away from Jade and Gary, which obviously makes it perfect. Even though Robbie's careful not to make a sound as he trudges past her, Jade's emerald eyes still flicker to his morose form. Robbie knows she's watching him because he's been peering at her from the corner of his eye, in spite of how painful it is. That moment when Jade sees him though, that's when it happens. Robbie could swear that Jade's shoulders loosen at the sight of him, and then her lips part slightly. Feeling his throat tighten, Robbie thinks maybe it had been a breeze of relief that had blown through them.

"Goodbye."

The word cracks like a bullet, and seconds later Gary is sprawled across the floor in a heap of tangled limbs. Robbie's eyes fly between the Mary Jane shaped footprint beginning to stain Gary's skin, and the empty seat beside Jade. She's not paying the slightest bit of attention to Gary as he writhes painfully at her feet. Instead Jade's eyes are locked on Robbie, and she's staring at him somewhat expectantly. Swallowing his apprehension, Robbie takes Jade's glare as an invitation and promptly ducks into _his_ spot beside her. Smirking triumphantly, Jade sinks into her seat a little further, looking slightly less highly strung then when Robbie had walked into the room. Perfectly on cue to kill their good moods, Mrs James springs up from the depth of hell. With a slight gleam in her eye, Mrs James bestows yet another detention on Jade. Robbie gets one too. He's an _instigator_apparently.

"A name, do you have a name?" An abrasive voice demands, once Mrs James drifted away. Robbie jumps a little, not at all used to being addressed by girls at school – well, anybody actually. Robbie eyes Jade curiously for a moment, wondering why she's speaking to him. As if to answer Robbie's silent question, Jade picks up a sheet of paper and jabs at yet another pair assignment. All of a sudden, Gary's presence doesn't seem like such a threat. Robbie guesses that in his absence, Mrs James had thoughtlessly transplanted Gary into the seat beside Jade.

Robbie's thoughts are strewn all throughout his head, and consequently his reply is delayed somewhere low in his throat. It's too delayed apparently. Jade gives him one final venomous glare before hunching over her – their paper again. When she shoves it between herself and Robbie a few moments later, he's finally able to make out her looping scrawl. Etched right beside Jade's name is the one she's given to Robbie.

_Samberg._

Doing something slightly of character, Robbie impulsively reaches over and drags the paper from Jade's hands. For some inexplicable reason, Jade's decided to just refer to him by a Jewish surname randomly plucked from her head. Robbie feels vaguely offended and slumps lower into his seat. He's sure his features aren't that overtly Jewish. Not like his father's, anyway. Twisting his gaze in Jade's direction, Robbie attempts a scowl. The usually dark look on Jade's face ebbs, and Robbie thinks maybe the message that he's not impressed is sinking in. Robbie's pride at having finally mastered scowling lasts for all of seven seconds before Jade starts to kind of smile, and then actually begins to laugh. It's an expression that looks foreign on her face, and not at all what he'd been aiming for, but somehow Robbie can't bring about the disappointment he's sure should be pooling in his gut.

"You uh, you're not a big TV guy, are you? Saturday Night Live, you'll figure it out." Jade says, winking and pulling her lips into a saccharine smile that Robbie's not entirely convinced by. Even still, he's got the most insane urge to call Jade his friend.

"My name is Robbie." Robbie says, belatedly. The words dribble through his lips in a fairly pathetic fashion, and Jade looks the slightest bit amused once again. Though the girl beside him looks less agitated than he's ever seen her, Robbie can't help feel a little on guard. He gets the impression that if the mood strikes her, Jade could seek out his biggest insecurity and tear him apart.

"Yeah, whatever Roberto." Jade replies, waving her hand at him dismissively. Robbie's not totally sure why Jade's all of a sudden using _words_ and with _him_, but it's actually sort of okay. It's sort of irrational and more than a little foolish, but Robbie's all of a sudden overcome with a panic that he can't explain.

"What are you doing here? Like what – why me? Are you just sitting her so that you can give me strange nicknames that I don't understand and then turn me into a pack mule? Also, you – she of the silent rage, why are you all of a sudden speaking?" It all flies off Robbie's tongue in a little less than a breath. With his breath coming in ragged waves, Robbie wonders if his words had even been decipherable. His answer comes with a simple perk of Jade's eyebrow. Briefly, Robbie thinks she actually looks thoughtful. That's absurd though, he reconsiders. Jade's probably just brewing another quip at the edge of her tongue.

"Ugh." Jade grunts ineloquently, rolling her eyes very hard. Chest deflating, Robbie actually finds himself to be a little disappointed by Jade's comeback, if you could even call it that. He thinks he's probably said too much. Jade's not flighty exactly, but she probably won't stick around after that outpouring of emotion.

"You're – I don't like people, you've probably figured that out. You, you're – when compared to that other kid, you're actually not the worst, I suppose. Even if you're kind of dweeby." Jade drawls, turning her hand over and peering down at her nails.

"Oh, so I'm a dweeb, am I?" Robbie barrels on, sounding more confident than he feels. Jade kind of just looks at him after that, holding his gaze but doing little else. Robbie wonders if maybe he's made a horrible, horrible mistake. People probably don't just start talking like this to Jade for a good reason. He just hopes she'll leave his face intact so that he can have an open casket.

But then there's a slight wisp of laughter in the air.

"Yep, total dweeb. But you should probably know that you're a dweeb that happened to be wearing a Ramones shirt when I first met you, so I suppose I can't totally hate you." As quickly as she'd begun to laugh, Jade's back to sounding as unimpressed as usual. Inflicted with misery for a moment, Robbie realizes she probably sees the cockroach crawling along the floor below them as more of a threat than him. Also, the question of what exactly a Ramone might be continues bouncing around in his skull. Robbie had gone to the library and tried to look it up, but that had been a fairly horrific failure. Now knee deep in thought, Robbie wonders if maybe The Ramones are some kind of secret society, like the Free Masons, or The Stonecutters. Stricken, Robbie wonders what this could mean for his father – if he is indeed the owner of that Ramones shirt. Does Jade think he's involved in keeping down the metric system and rigging the Oscars too? Worse still, what if it's not his father's shirt? Somehow, Robbie finds the thought of Alfonz belonging to some sort of secret order infinitely more disturbing.

"So what, you tolerate me because of a t-shirt?" Robbie squawks, casting off the increasingly absurd thoughts that had been floating through his head. Finally, thankfully, rational thought returns to the front of his mind. Robbie's torn between feeling offended that Jade merely tolerates him, and feeling a little bit honoured that he's pretty much the _only_one Jade tolerates.

"That about sums it up." Jade replies, that same thoughtful, but not really, expression crossing her face as it had before. Robbie feels aggrieved at Jade's confirmation of his suspicions. Then again, tolerance_ is_a whole step up from the outright loathing she's displayed to the rest of the school, he concedes. That's something.

Sort of.

"But I mean are we – can we be friends?" The words tumble through Robbie's lips before he can help himself. A stale silence greets him, and Robbie just curls his fingers around his seat nervously. Robbie finds himself _hoping_that Jade's not going to kick him out of the seat that's been his all semester, but expecting nothing less. But then Jade's twisting to him, and her eyebrows are pushing together in actual thought. Well maybe. Robbie's not entirely sure. Jade could actually just be figuring out how best to kick him from his seat.

"If we must." She finally says, and Robbie wants to burst into a cloud of butterflies. "You should probably know that I'm not actually going to _admit_ it though." Jade quickly amends, huffing and wrapping her arms around herself. Robbie could swear she's actually trying to strangle any sort of tenderness from the moment. That's okay though, because he, Robbie Shapiro, now has _TWO_honest to goodness friends.

After that, Robbie's wise enough not to push Jade for more conversation. One look at the way her eyebrows have tightly wound to the centre of her face, and the way her arms have folded over her chest like granite is enough to quell whatever remaining questions Robbie might have. Instead, he retreats into his thoughts and just quietly works on their assignment.

Also, he tries very hard not to grin the whole time.

* * *

_**Also, sorry this took so long to get out. It was mostly done last week, but work this week really wrecked any chance I had to finish it, I haven't even had the chance to check out Teen Spirit or How To Date Supernatural Girls, which kind of bites. Also, thanks to me beta, you're the man! Anyways, I'm hoping to update again before Monday. But let me know what you guys thought of this chapter before then. :)**_


	4. Happy Birthday Samberg Part I

With that one painfully emotionally stunted conversation, things actually move forward for Robbie. With Jade looming near him during school, and Tori monopolizing his time outside of it, the next few months slip through Robbie's fingers without him really noticing it. Some days Jade can actually be borderline pleasant at school. Today isn't exactly one of those days though. Robbie's sitting beside Jade under their not so sad little tree, and today she's talking_ at_ him, not to him. Folding his knees up, Robbie looks down at the ground and just tries to keep Jade's words from bleeding into white noise. She's semi – sort of successful. Jade's ranting about her _evil_ step mother forcing her into going to the beach on a family outing. From what he's hearing, Robbie concludes that _clearly_this woman is the devil.

As Robbie sits and sort of gets lost in his thoughts, Jade's rambling story continues to pick up steam. Eventually she mentions a stray school of dolphins, and starts to sound more and more agitated. At that, Robbie's eyebrows scrunch together and he remembers Tori ardently disputing the term _school _in relation to large groups of dolphins. She'd sworn up and down that the term was pod, not a school. The frenzied look on Tori's face flitters through Robbie's memory and he bites down on a smile. He recalls not being too worried either way. Tori of course, had suffered a small meltdown when Alfonz was on the phone and she couldn't use the Internet to confirm her suspicions. After listening to Alfonz speak in Spanish for no more than a few moments, Tori's patience had withered away and she'd dragged Robbie to the library. They'd walked there for thirty agonizing minutes only to find it closed for fumigation. After that Tori had let out a pained wail and –

"Oi Samberg, are you even listening?" Jade crabs out, breaking from her story for just enough time to jab Robbie in the ribs. Flicking his gaze to Jade, Robbie nods his head and gives her a wave to carry on. Which she does, pretty much until the end of time. Robbie sits and remembers wistfully what a beautiful time it had been when he'd thought Jade's name was Ramones Girl, and all he'd had to do was carry her bag home. Also, he listens a little bit. Jade mentions being coerced into a duet by her stepmother, and Robbie feels kind of jealous.

He can barely remember the last time he was even a back up singer in the grand production that comprises his parent's existence. Eventually Jade rounds off her story with a simple grunt, and then the bells wails in the background. As he walks back to class beside Jade, Robbie's mind lingers on _his_ parents. The deeper he wades into the topic, the more Robbie realizes he's not even an extra in his parent's lives. He's a prop. Window dressing so _Jeffery_ and _Elise_can look just like all of the other happy families.

Happy.

Robbie twists his lips and tries to let go of his melancholy. It stays though, seting down roots that curl around his veins. Robbie grits his teeth and just tries to pry it loose enough to shove into some dark place. It's what he's always done, and it's always held him together in the past. It's not healthy, and it's not normal, Robbie knows that much. Somebody that hasn't even seen his first decade shouldn't have this much angst built up. _Angst_. It's a new word to Robbie; Jade had introduced him to it during a particularly dour Wednesday last month. In spite of that though, he thinks he's heard it before. Maybe not verbally, but Robbie's sure that he's heard it bouncing around inside of his head like scattershot shrapnel. It's just too familiar, way too familiar.

"What? _What_is bugging you?" Jade's bark drags Robbie out of his head, and for once he's glad to be back in the real world. Glancing sidelong at Jade, Robbie sees that her eyes have narrowed and her hands are firmly planted on her hips. Swallowing, Robbie gets the impression he's not going to be able to eek his way out of this without an explanation.

Jade's as impatient as ever, and while Robbie's still trying to put his thoughts into words she lashes out. Like a vice grip, thin ivory fingers wrap around Robbie's wrist, and then he's hurtling in a direction that's most definitely _not_where his next class is. Jade pulls open a random door, and then shoves Robbie inside. Slowly spinning on the spot, Robbie takes in his new surroundings. It's a storage closet, and somewhat sardonically Robbie thinks it's entirely too appropriate. Being the sensitive soul that she is, Jade jabs him with the blunt end of a mop until words spill out.

Eventually Robbie lets everything that's been swimming around in his head loose. When Robbie finishes speaking, Jade actually looks sort of impressed. Robbie guesses that he doesn't exactly look like the type of person to be smuggling so many emotions, or something along those lines. A stale silence settles over the room and Robbie's head starts to ache with every painful throb of his heart. Whether it's because of the chemicals in the room or what he's said, Robbie couldn't say.

"Such a tortured soul." Jade drawls after a while, shaking her head slightly and looking as uncomfortable as Robbie feels. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Robbie leans against the wall and tries to blend into the darkness. He knows he should probably say something – anything really, but the words just won't come.

"If their plan was to be normal, I'm pretty sure they wouldn't be trying to pass you off as their child, spazzoid. Besides, normal is _incredibly_ overrated Shapiro, it's just another word for mediocrity. So now you're going to shut up and give me one of the cookies that I _know_are in your bag." Jade huffs, first giving Robbie a withering glare, and directing a longing gaze at his bag. With a smile twitching at his lips, Robbie slides his bag onto one shoulder and dips a hand into it. Jade doesn't even wait for Robbie to pull the lid off his cookies before snatching the small plastic container from him. It's actually okay though. Leaning against the wall, but no longer really trying to disappear, Robbie doesn't think Jade knows how much her little spiel had helped him.

Mrs James yells at them for being late, but after that, the day ambles past without any real fuss. The final bell of the day rings without much fanfare, and with the sun just starting to slip behind the Hollywood hills; Robbie willingly picks up Jade's slab of granite. It's not that he's developed a love of lugging around ridiculously heavy bags, or that he's started a new bag related weight training regime. It's just – Robbie's not great with words, and he feels very grateful right now. When Robbie stands upright again, a bag on either shoulder, Jade nods slowly at him. Robbie thinks, well more hopes that it's a silent acknowledgment of his attempt at giving rather than saying thanks. Jade's emotions are sort of hard to get a read on at the best of times.

Nevertheless, as uncertain as he might be, Robbie walks into the afternoon sun with a spring in his step. The sun's rays fill him with warmth instead of creeping around him, and Robbie can't help but grin just a little but. Jade notices this and scowls appropriately. It's then that Robbie realizes Jade is probably aware of why he's not so droopy looking anymore. Of _course_the thought of spreading cheer would fill Jade with misery, Robbie thinks brightly.

* * *

August and September drift past Robbie, and then October skitters past as well. Robbie's eyes snap open almost immediately when his alarm goes off on the first of November. Kicking back his covers, Robbie grimaces and tries not to think about what awaits him for the next thirty days. For as long as Robbie can remember, nothing good has ever happened to him in November. It's freakish, like the month has a vendetta against him for even being born during it.

This year is no exception. By the time Robbie is slinking quietly into the thirteenth day of the month, he's already racked up enough unfortunate incidents for even Jade to notice. Staring into the mirror and trying to smooth out his hair even a little, Robbie actually seriously considers just skipping school today. He's pretty sure there's got to be a birthday absence clause somewhere in the schools charter that would lessen his punishment. Robbie ruminates on this for a few more minutes before casting the rebellious thought adrift.

Naturally, Robbie's late again. He doubts the teacher will believe that a dog quite literally tried to eat his homework either. With a shake of his head, Robbie peers down at the remains of his essay and sadly shoulders his way into class. Mrs James stops speaking for long enough to give Robbie a quick glare. He's expecting at least an afternoon's detention, but the bespectacled woman just turns back to the student she'd been speaking to.

"Ugh. Hey Astro Boy..." Jade grunts after a while, and Robbie comes careening out of his thoughts. Jade's usually not one for morning conversation unless it's absolutely necessary. Ignoring this week's latest nickname, Robbie glances furtively around the room, wondering what's prompted Jade to say something. There's no Mrs James hovering over them, no new assignment, and no Gary either. It's just him and Jade, and she's for some reason speaking in _words_before 11am.

Abandoning his search around the room, Robbie turns to Jade. Her lips have pursed, and her eyebrows are all scrunched up now. Robbie gets the impression that Jade's trying very hard to contain her anger towards him for not knowing what goes on beneath her brown tresses. Robbie's still in the process of eeking out an apology when another loud exhale tears it's way through her lips and she starts digging around in her bag for something.

"Happy birthday, dingus." Jade says, innocently enough. Robbie freezes up again, even worse than before. There's a pause and Robbie bites down on the inside of his cheek. He'd been very careful to not let anybody at school know the day of his birthday. He's seen Mrs James insist on having the class sing happy birthday in the past. It's really not something Robbie would like to be a part of. Sad as it may be, he's had nightmares about similar things in the past.

"It's not my…birthday." Robbie says jerking his head back and forth. He's not convincing in the slightest. The unimpressed way Jade rolls her eyes says that much. Flicking her eyes away from Robbie again, Jade returns to rifling through her seemingly bottomless backpack. Eventually, somewhere in the endless abyss, Jade's fingers clasp what she's been hunting for. There's a flash of glee in her green eyes, and Robbie screws his eyes shut just as Jade pulls her arm back.

Eventually Robbie cobbles together the courage to pry his eyelids apart once more. Jade's leaning heavily on the desk beside him, and she looks entirely unimpressed by his theatrics. When he casts his gaze downwards, the reason becomes kind of – well actually, very obvious to Robbie as well. Sitting harmlessly in front of Jade is a small, immaculately wrapped box. Robbie's jaw flies open, and he just gapes at both Jade and the box for a while.

"Shapiro, I do my research. I _know_ it's your birthday. Also congratulations on being born on a Friday. _Very_Jason of you, now open your damn present." Jade says, the tone of her voice veering dangerously between her usual crabbiness and something foreign that Robbie has trouble deciphering. Just when Robbie's mind is starting to tick over with the possibilities of what it could be, Jade's shunting the box towards him. Flying forwards, Robbie just barely catches the box before it flies off the edge of the desk.

"This is – uh, just thanks…" Robbie says, fingers drifting instinctively to his hair and running through it's tangled expanse. He lowers his eyes to the box that's now resting in front of him and feels incredibly uncertain. It occurs to Robbie that this might perhaps be the first time he's ever been given a present by somebody that's not genetically obligated to do so.

Placing his fingers on either side of the box, Robbie lifts it and peers curiously at the paper that it's wrapped in. Splashed over it is a slightly pixelated image which Robbie guesses Jade must have printed off herself. Standing awkwardly in the centre of that image is a face Robbie vaguely recognizes. He thinks he's seen this person on television maybe once or twice. He recognizes the thick glasses, and the hair. _The hair_. It looks like a wild bush attempting to swallow the guy's head.

"_Samberg._" Jade says, when Robbie turns to her for confirmation of who this mystery man might be. When Jade speaks, a smirk plays briefly at her lips. It disappears as quickly as it had arrive though, and Jade busies herself with picking flecks of paint away from the desk in front of her. Her narrow shoulders are bunched up, and if Robbie didn't know any better, he could swear Jade might actually _care _if he likes what she's picked out for him.

"Hurry up and open it. _God_…" Jade grits out a few minutes later, while Robbie's laboriously removing the tape one strip at a time. Samberg's face is still mostly intact, and Robbie's trying to keep it that way.

"I will, I'm just – I don't want to tear it." Robbie says, peering over his glasses at Jade. She expels a forceful breath, and generally looks inconvenienced by Robbie's continued existence for the next few minutes.

"Jesus Shapiro, it's_ just_computer paper. You're supposed to tear it. Open the damn present." Jade mutters again with an irritated growl, and Robbie jumps back into his seat fearfully. Glowering – well attempting to, he then turns to Jade. She meets his gaze, and to Robbie's consternation, a slight smirk infiltrates her face.

"My wrapping paper!" Robbie squawks, dropping his gaze and becoming suddenly aware that he'd torn a massive strip of paper away when Jade had startled him. Robbie slides his hands over the wound at centre of Samberg's head mournfully and Jade hums contentedly.

Robbie's careful and eventually, or seventy three hours later as Jade puts it, he peels the last piece of tape away. Holding up the wrapping paper, he's pleased to note that Samberg's face, aside from one Jade inflicted tear, is almost perfectly intact. With a few delicate movements, Robbie folds up his handy work and stows it in his bag. Still half expecting a lump of coal, Robbie's eyebrows lift when he pulls away the boxes lid. Within its four walls are three CDs and a shirt. Picking up the shirt, Robbie examines its design and wonders when Jade went to The Bronx. He also wonders why a city with somewhat of a dubious reputation would emblazon its merchandise with a pair of bloody lips. Robbie brings his finger to his lips and decides that maybe if that's all The Bronx has to offer, then maybe he'll just stay in California. One time Tori had mentioned his lips being his best feature, so Robbie thinks avoiding having them bloodied up might be for the best.

"I love it." Robbie says, because he actually does. It's not something he would have picked out, but that's kind of the point. Somebody else bought it for him. Jade doesn't say anything, but Robbie notices that a satisfied little smirk drifts onto her lips.

Reverently placing his new shirt back into the box it had come from, Robbie picks up the three CD's Jade's given him. The first sheds some light on the latest addition to his wardrobe. Apparently bloody lips aren't actually an exotic marketing campaign by one of the roughest parts of New York. Evidently The Bronx are also a band that Jade likes. Flipping over the case and looking at the track list, Robbie gets the impression that they're one of Jade's shouty bands.

"This is – it's a mixtape!" Robbie cries out, flicking past the second case and onto the third. It's cover is a simple scrap of paper stuffed into what Robbie guesses is one of Jade's old cases, it simply says _Help_. Robbie's eyebrows crawl towards the centre of his face, and he turns to Jade for an explanation.

"You needed the help." She says simply, and for some reason that's enough. Aside from Tori, Robbie's never really been _helped _before. It's never really occurred to him that Jade might actually be hanging around him because of more than convenience. Smiling at her a little bit dreamily, Robbie just feels very lucky that Jade's around to grumble at him, hit him, and apparently give him _gifts_. Jade chooses that exact moment to lash out and sock Robbie in the arm, probably because he's acting all warm and fuzzy. Jade doesn't do warm and fuzzy - well, mostly.

* * *

**Soooo...nobody said much about the last chapter. Was it seriously that bad? haha. Bummer, I kinda liked it. Oh well.**


End file.
